


The Start Was Fire

by Kyubey_Kotone



Series: Origins and Ends [1]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pre-Canon, graphic description of drowning, my headcanon on how Sammy turned into an ink creature, very descriptive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 03:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyubey_Kotone/pseuds/Kyubey_Kotone
Summary: This is a short, descriptive fic I wrote about Sammy turning into an ink monster.





	The Start Was Fire

He couldn't see; he couldn't even breathe. His body ached all over, fear making it's course through his veins, seeping out in the blood that exited the wounds that littered his body. What was this hell? How did he even get himself here, in this situation? It was all supposed to be a gateway, a beginning; the start of his musical career, yet he was here, running for his life from these unholy, dastardly creatures that waded through ink, as his feet slapped the ground the more rapid his pace was becoming.

His heart began to hurt alongside his lungs, his breaths raggedly exiting his dry, raw mouth. His eyes darted around, looking for a way out, an exit, an escape even though his mind screamed at him, knowing there was no way out. His brain couldn't even muster any knowledge of which way to go as he ran, he just wanted to get away from those... _Things_.

He began to back into a corner, shakily looking down to see his feet wading into ink. There was no hope, this was a lost cause. There wouldn't be an escape. No one could save him, no matter how much he would scream or try to have someone, anyone, hear and rescue him. This was the end of Sammy Lawrence.

Inky incarnations began to surround the man, as he fell backwards, the inklings lunging at him, covering him in that foul, evil ridden liquid. He attempted to breathe, ink flooding his nostrils, his sights going dark, as he drowned in the lively black ink. It felt as if he was falling, wading through thick, warm water and sinking; drowning as burning sensations filled his lungs, pain radiating through his body and chest, like his insides were being ripped by a scolding knife, doused in fire. He began to feel himself lose attachment, his mind's racing slowly coming to a halt, forgetting all sense of realism. He began losing sight of nothing, slipping away into what he expected was death.


End file.
